


Behind the Mask

by MagicGirlinAMuggleWorld



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Secret Crush, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 14:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21300647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicGirlinAMuggleWorld/pseuds/MagicGirlinAMuggleWorld
Summary: Remus helps patch Sirius up after a duel, and they end up revealing some feelings to one another. TW: internalized homophobia.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Decided I should post something for Sirius' birthday and found these bits from a multi-chapter I'm neverrrrrrrrrrr going to finish, so I decided to turn it into a two-shot. It's a bit angsty but ends up okay!

Remus is reading in bed when Sirius bursts into the dormitory, panting. He looks around wildly, wincing slightly, then asks, “Prongs isn’t back yet, is he?” He begins stumbling towards his bed with his hand clutching the left side of his chest.

“No, still ‘patrolling’ with Lily,” Remus says without looking up from his book. When he does smirk up at Sirius, his eyes widen and he slams the book closed. “Merlin’s saggies, what happened to you?”

“Hmm?” Sirius’ brain feels fuzzy with the rush of adrenaline. His eyes follow Remus’ line of sight to his own chest, and he sees the blood seeping through his fingers, soaking his shirt. “Oh. That’s not good.”

He wobbles and sits down on the edge of Remus’ bed, unable to make it the extra ten feet to his own. “So, right. I was hoping you could patch me up before our beloved Head Boy gets here. I’d rather him not see this.”

“Why? What’s happened?” Remus repeats, reaching out to put a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius can feel the warmth of him through his t-shirt. “You really ought to go to the hospital wing. I’m no healer.”

“No!” Sirius shakes his head and glares. “Dumbledore can’t know, none of the teachers can know about this.” The vigorous movement causes fresh spots of blood to appear on his t-shirt, he can feel the wetness under his fingers, but he tries for a carefree smile. “Come on, Moony, between the two of us, we’ve got plenty of experience dealing with scrapes like these.”

The smile doesn’t seem to reassure Remus at all. He sighs and rubs his forehead, which isn’t uncommon when dealing with Sirius, but his honey-brown eyes look so worried this time. “Hold on, I’ve got some essence of dittany,” he says. “But once you’ve stopped bleeding, we’re going to have a talk.”

“Thanks, mate,” Sirius says. He closes his eyes and leans back on Remus’ bed, hand still pressed over his heart. The red stain is spreading, and he can feel his shirt sticking to his side, as well. He shifts his hand there and winces. The adrenaline is wearing off, and he can tell that cut is worse than he initially thought.

Remus rummages around in his trunk and finally pulls out a small bottle of brown liquid. “I nicked this last time I was in the infirmary,” he says. “Figured it might come in handy.” Sirius grunts in agreement, eyes still closed. “All right, you’re gonna have to take off that shirt. I need to see how bad this is.”

His eyes snap open. It’s a perfectly reasonable request, but Remus has no idea that Sirius has imagined him making that same request dozens of times – just in a very different context. He tries not to think about that, but he swallows hard as reaches behind his neck and pulls his t-shirt over his head.

Remus inhales sharply and his pupils darken his eyes, and Sirius would smirk and say something cheeky, except he follows Remus’ gaze and sees the two long, thin cuts across his own pectoral muscle, each bleeding profusely. The gash on his side, below his ribs, looks even deeper, and the way his right shoulder hurts, he suspects there’s a cut there, too. He hisses in a breath and presses his hand over the wound on his side.

Remus’ eyes narrow as he watches. “Snape?” he demands.

Sirius scowls. “Yeah. I was trying to get the slimy git to tell me where Regulus has gotten off to, and next thing I know we’re dueling.”

“But he used _that_ curse?” Remus carefully dabs the essence of dittany on Sirius’ shoulder, watching the brown liquid smoke slightly as it knits the edges of his wound back together. Sirius nods wearily, and Remus goes eerily still. Then he shrugs, and, in a voice like the calm before a storm, he says, “I’ll kill him.”

Remus rarely surprises Sirius these days, but that response is a complete shock. “This is why I didn’t want Prongs to know,” he says, cringing as Remus pinches the skin around one of the cuts on his chest, “but I didn’t expect you’d want to do something rash, Moony. Come on, old boy.” He puts a hand on Remus’ arm and tries again for a charming smile. “It’s not a big deal. Honestly, have I ever had a conversation with Snivellus where we didn’t try to hex each other into oblivion?”

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal?” Remus demands, once again ignoring Sirius’ attempt to make light of the situation. “Padfoot, he could’ve killed you.”

It’s not really that Sirius thought Remus wouldn’t care, it’s just that – he’s never heard him use that tone, the one that’s far more worried than exasperated, when talking about him. Remus is wily but not reckless, and at times his patience for Sirius’ more dangerous schemes wears thin. But right now it’s clear that he’s _terrified_ – and therefore furious – not with Sirius’, but _for_ him.

Even though that shouldn’t make him happy, Sirius’ smile is real, if small, this time. “Well, he didn’t,” he says softly. He clenches the bedsheets in both fists to keep from grabbing Moony’s hand. “I only caught a piece of the curse on the rebound, I think, otherwise it would still be cutting me to ribbons.”

Amber eyes flash like lightning and Remus opens his mouth to say something else, but Sirius shakes his head firmly. “I won’t have you risking yourself on my account. Just leave it.”

Remus’ brow furrows, but he closes his mouth with a grunt. He rubs the healing potion over the cuts on Sirius’ chest, then moves to the deep one across his side. He works intently, his eyes focused on the wounds, his expression betraying very little, aside from the muscle in his jaw that jumps each time Sirius flinches.

Not that Sirius flinches often. He’s used to pain, and besides, Remus’ hands feel nice and warm, and despite bearing numerous scars, his fingertips are gentle on Sirius’ skin. Too gentle, really. Sirius swallows hard, watching those fingers trace his abdominal muscles, and his trousers tighten.

_Oh no, please no. Please Merlin, not now._ He stops watching Remus’ hands and tries to think unsexy thoughts.

It doesn’t work.

Remus pauses in his doctoring and cocks an eyebrow at his friend. “Getting nearly shredded to bits turns you on now, does it?” he asks slowly.

“Course not,” Sirius growls. This is humiliating, and he wonders if his neck and shoulders are flushed red. He snatches the bottle of dittany and turns away from Remus. “I’ll do this myself.”

“You can’t do it properly, you’ll stretch the skin.” Remus leans across Sirius and tries to take the bottle back, and Sirius both loves and hates the feel of Remus’ body against his in that moment. “Look, you’ve already reopened the one on your shoulder.”

“It’s fine, Remus,” Sirius snaps, pulling away. “I’ve got it.” He uncorks the bottle and stands up, turning his back to his friend.

Remus grabs the bottle and pushes him back down to the bed. “Stop it right now and let me help you,” he demands, sitting down next to Sirius.

But Sirius shrugs Remus’ hand off his shoulder and glares at him. “You can’t help me.”

“What are you on about? I can if you’ll let me.”

“You’re talking about these stupid scrapes.” Sirius gestures to his chest and huffs out an angry breath. “Who cares about that? You can’t begin to know the extent of my problems, mate.”

“I think I can.” Remus is staring deep into his eyes, and Sirius swallows hard and starts to turn away. But Remus slides one hand along Sirius’ clenched jaw, grips the back of his neck, and kisses him hard on the lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius is so shocked by the kiss that he immediately pushes Remus away. “What are you doing?” he cries, leaping to his feet. Part of him regrets this immediately, berates himself as an idiot, and orders him to grab Remus and snog him senseless. He ignores that part and begins to pace, breathing heavily, avoiding eye contact with the handsome boy still seated on the bed.

Remus raises an eyebrow, and his pale cheeks color a bit. “I’d hoped it’d be obvious.” He stands as well and puts his hands on Sirius’ shoulders to stop him pacing. “Was it not?”

“Well. I’m not sure. I mean—” Sirius stops mid- sentence and scowls at his friend. “Did Lily tell you something?”

“Lily? About you?” Remus looks puzzled. “Like what?”

Now Sirius can’t meet his eye. It feels silly to hide it, at this point, but he’s never said the words out loud before. “About...feelings I may or may not have...towards you.” He swallows hard.

Remus chuckles, but it’s a sound full of wonder, not mocking, and Sirius can tell he’s not being laughed at. That feeling is further confirmed when Remus shakes his head and smiles shyly. “No, she didn’t. I’d sort of suspected...hoped, I guess. But I wasn’t sure.” He shrugs. “It became a little clearer when we were playing doctor a moment ago.”

“Ah.” Sirius shrugs Remus’ hand off his shoulder and resumes pacing. “Right. That was—in any event, why would you hope for...this? You like girls.”

“Sirius.” Remus grabs his friend’s hand, and Sirius would swear warmth spreads through his whole body at that touch, “I like you.”

He can feel Remus’ eyes boring into him, but he’s not sure what’s happening right now. It doesn’t make any sense for Remus to be saying what it sounds like he’s saying. Sirius lets go of his hand and refuses to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, and he tries to make his voice devoid of emotion. “You don’t have to pity me.”

“Pity you? Why would I pity you?” Remus snorts. “You get top marks without trying, you’re witty, you’re charming, unreasonably attractive, popular—do I need to go on? What’s there to pity?”

The emotion spills out then, and Sirius is yelling, “Because I’m—not normal! I like boys in the way that you lot like girls!” He lets out a bitter laugh and adds, “If Wallburga and Orion hadn’t already disowned me, they certainly would now.”

Remus considers this quietly. “Maybe,” he agrees after a moment. “But you left them for a bunch of reasons. I’m sorry you had to, but you don’t regret it, do you? You don’t want to go back to that house.”

“Of course not!” Sirius says quickly. “I’m lucky I got out when I did!”

“Right. So I _am _sorry your parents are terrible,” Remus says again, “but if I’m not supposed to pity you for their treatment, tell me again what I’m supposed to pity you for? There's nothing wrong with you, and I won’t pity you for being attracted to blokes.” He takes a deep breath and those liquid gold eyes scan Sirius’ face cautiously. “Especially if you meant what you said before about…having feelings for me.”

Nothing makes any sense. His friends are the most accepting people he’s ever met, that’s for sure, but Remus was more scandalized than this when Mary said she preferred coffee to tea. How can he be so calm now?

“Moony, I’ve asked you not to do this,” Sirius says, his voice anguished as he sits down on the bed and runs his hands through his hair. “I didn’t mean to make it a big thing, I just know I’m probably going to be alone forever. And I know that’s what you’re afraid of, too, but you don’t have to pretend to fancy me just because we’re both secret social pariahs.”

Remus’ nostrils flare and he steps away from Sirius. “I’m not pretending anything,” he snaps, folding his arms over his chest. “And you’re not a pariah. Don’t equate our situations. There will always be ignorant, terrible people, but _who you are_ isn’t dangerous. You’re not like me. Remember that.”

“Sorry,” Sirius mutters. “I didn’t mean—it’s just, we’re both hiding part of who we are, you know? We spend a lot of time wearing masks.” He shakes his head. “Being loud and arrogant, flirting with girls? That’s what people expect of me. And it’s so easy. But it’s lonely sometimes, being so careful not to make real connections with people who might see right through me. I know you understand how that feels.”

“I do. And it is lonely sometimes,” Remus concedes. “But now I have you lot, and you see me and share my burdens whether I want you to or not.” He shrugs. “It helps.”

“We’ll always be there for you, Moony,” Sirius says fiercely and without hesitation. “And I know you think you’re dangerous, but you’re not a danger to us.”

“I know. And _you’re_ not a danger to me, either,” Remus says. He shakes his head and sits on the bed again. “You’ve changed a lot in the last few years, you know. Or maybe I just read you better. I used to think you loved the spotlight for its own sake and didn’t care how it affected others, but now I wonder if you’re just trying to keep it _off_ everyone else. Regulus, Pete. Me,” he adds quietly. “I mean, you’re no saint. We’ve been through hell, and you’ve often been the one to lead us there. But the way you’ve tried to protect me since, and the way we talk all night, or hold each other through nightmares? I used to think you were like this with me because you felt guilty. But then I started to wonder.”

Sirius feels raw, exposed, like the still-healing cuts on his chest. “Wonder what?” he whispers.

“Whether it was possible the great Sirius Black could possibly fancy little old me.” Remus’ cheeks are pink, but he raises a challenging eyebrow. “Have to admit, what happened today gave me a little more confidence about that.”

Sirius groans and falls backward on the bed. “This is humiliating, Moons. Please don’t feel obligated—”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Remus interrupts. He places a hand on Sirius’ waist, then seems to think the better of it and grabs his hands to pull him back to a seated position. “I didn’t kiss you just because I’m flattered, or because I’m scared of being alone. I think I’ve seen the man beneath your mask, and I’ve wanted to kiss that guy for months now. I guess you’re just too thick to notice.”

Sirius’ breath hitches. He doesn’t know why this is so hard for him to believe, except that he’s not sure he could ever be worthy of someone as good as Remus is.

“You’re serious?”

Remus shakes his head. “No, you are, you idiot.”

A short, nervous laugh bursts from Sirius’ lips. “I deserved that,” he says. He takes a deep breath, still a little unsure of himself. “Okay, then. Do you still want to kiss me?

“Definitely,” Remus says, running his thumbs over Sirius’ knuckles. “Is that what you want? Me to kiss you?”

“Only if you want to,” he replies, and Remus chuckles.

“We’ve established that, I think.” He takes Sirius’ face in his hands and looks at him like he’s a long-lost lover, only recently rediscovered. “You don’t have to hide with me, Sirius.”

Sirius nods, trapped in Remus’ molten gaze. “I know,” he breathes, as their lips meet. He whispers more words between kisses. “I won’t anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! I really appreciate feedback, especially because I don't write much M/M and certainly want to do these characters justice. Thanks!


End file.
